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Larry dillon Feb 21
Force feeding on two doses of clozapine.
Doc reclines in his chair;
I am restrained in mine.

"I am feeling fine, now,
feeling fine."

"It is time."
Doc persists," admit it for them...
you know what you did;
you know it was all real."

A film reel rewinds inside somewhere
adjacent to my cerebellum;
Front row seats to my favorite show-
I know not what to tell him?

It was all what I dreamt up on one of my.
Usual Sundays.
Savoring what lovely sensations-
'some' would insinuate are a sin.
It was me this time playing doctor,
operating on my imaginary friend.

This one pretends she does not like the licking
of a blade against her skin.
And when I decide to cut too deep
her safe word is always 'grin.'  

But Doc: that was just how we liked to play?
She had been longing for a violent death:
            I dreamt her up that way.

...

Before I could say what fun I had with the others.., teary-eyed on the other side of reinforced glass, resides my many made-up friend's mothers...

(Was it those two pills from before?)
In my final minutes ..
I have regained lucidity.
On death row for defiling those things
I thought only I could see.
A needle in my arm:
my death will serve as an apology.

...

I writhe, and before I black out, the lithe figure
of an old imaginary friend.. but if you WERE actually real..

A decade ago- I remember a incorporeal, corrupted, entity I allowed to fill my soul.

In place of the hole where apathy used to be.
The yearning for suicide was all mine;
Homicide was your wish-you resided within.
Broke my will and reality down day by day
by simply posing as my only friend.
Control/Desire imprisoned me.

Rewired my mind.
breaking me down into insanity.
but I am fighting now:
Thrashing with all the life left still inside of me.

She grins as I go.

musing to herself.
         She takes me below.

" I had high hopes for this plaything...
  my next toy is actually EAGER to ****. "


...For someone who wanted to be dead,
you had such a hard time keeping still.

-
A story of how the friendship between a man and his imaginary friend was simply that: a 'friend' imagined.

T/w suicide, ******, mental health
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
Truth doesn't care what you think
Truth will hunt you down quietly
Truth is often cold and bleak
Truth knows it'll catch up eventually

Lies are just secrets nobody can keep
Lies break you down unapologetically
Lies are not solely used by the morally weak
Lies devour the whole soul entirely

Truth is hidden by the lies we seek,
the falsehoods we speak
Lies don't stay hidden naturally,
falling apart gradually, at times, instantly
Truth turns to lie with a simple tweak,
a false win streak, don't peek
Lies will always be part of humanity, but how much of that statement is tragedy?
So maybe the lies aren't as bad as we think...what do you think?
Be honest now, don't lie to me

©2023
Jeremy Betts Aug 2020
I have no idea what I'm doin', I put my foot in the race but definitely not a shoe in to win
I've heard gettin' to the end and then dyin' is now, somehow, considered a win
But I guess only if you pick and stick with the correct doctrine of religion and only abide by their sin
Who's got it right then? We'll probably never know, not because the truth is hidden or missin' but because there's far to many cooks in the kitchen
And yes, that's pretty bleak but if true you're gonna have to explain it better then cause I can't seem to comprehend
What it seems to me to be is I'm in way over my head so it's gone over my head, I followed a liaison when I should have led
You said this is the land of the free but how can that be when most our time breathin' is contractually given'
Sometimes it's even been forcibly taken by some giant corporation backing a corrupt politician
You find yourself, either figuratively or physically, buildin' your very own coffin
And unbeknownst to you it's a Trojan horse disguised as detailed preparation to ***** out precaution
There will be a moment when they move on and you're no longer a part of the equation
We never really were starting from way back when, born into a lifetime ban from their utopian creation
We have never been given adequate time for livin'. Why is this acceptable and deemed okay to begin with even?
Why are more of you not seethin' mad? This would most definitely be a justifiable reason.
But we're just keepin' it goin' like this day after day, season after season
Just a cog in the machine till the day our vital signs begin to weaken and your heart stops beatin
Can't feel the pulse we're seekin', no animated heart blinkin' in the corner of the screen, that's when reality sets in
When the life line on the heart monitor stops peekin', and triggers the flat line death siren
Then through all the cryin' you hear someone attemptin' to comfort someone else by sayin'
"Who could have possibly predicted this mess we're in?"
Uhhhhh, me, I can.
I could have told you what's about to happen, where it's comin' from and when
Matter of fact I did put out a warnin' but you said I was just a mad man ramblin' on 'bout nothin'
But I know it to be truth so I'll bet it all, my life's a risky buy in but I'm all in
In a moment of heated confrontation always beware the calm man smilin', tryin' to ignore the situation around him while thinkin'
"What's one more murderous sin?" A question type justification got you askin' while knowin' you're in to deep to ever come out again as the same person
The devil in my eyes got 'em peralized with fear, stone cold frozen
Got others quakin' in their boots, Michael J Fox type shakin', twitchin' like pan fried bacon
Got you sweatin' and fidgetin' so go get your spinner to hold your attention or at the very least be a distraction
Grown-ups are takin' so get to walkin', take your childish ways elsewhere before it's a problem

Okay, where was I?
....operator sound we're sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again*

©2020
Sarah Mulqueen Jul 2023
I wish I was stronger
That my mind would leave me alone
I keep trying
Pushing through all of these walls I've built
I keep trying
To focus on the little things to get me through each day
To focus on the positives in every single day
Why can't I just stop
Stop worrying about how I'm meant to do this because the pain and sadness doesn't stop
I wish I didn't feel so strongly
The emotions I carry weigh me down so intensely
I don't want this to be who I am or how I am
But it's the only way I've ever known how to be
Countless years of trying to brake this cycle just to function
To not feel so alone
To be happy
To be able to feel free of what I escaped from
To stand proud of who I am and that I'm here today
Three years ago in September, I tried to take my life. My self worth, value and my identity was in the hands of someone else. They wanted their cake and to eat it too, and it literally destroyed me.
3 years on, I'm still struggling to put back the pieces. 3 years on I'm stuck in limbo while life carries on around me.
I'm trying daily to break the patterns and redefine myself. But daily I am struggling.
Larry dillon Feb 2023
You ensnared me like a dog in its cage
Locked me down in your cellar
drove to my estate
told my son it would be okay
Massacred my family with my face
And made sure to replay it for me everyday:
recorded the depravity so I could see it on tv
-Said to me:
"I know your heart is bleeding.
I will set you free when you watch,
Without shedding a single tear."
-I remained locked up for close to a year
I needed to know why you would trap me here
just to let me walk away
when you finally released me at gunpoint;
I learned to keep my tears at bay
Your response when I pressed for a reason:
        
               "...its just a game I play."

You set lives on fire then set us free
How many suicides have you kept as trophies?
Does it tingle like a wet tongue on your neck,
When you rip a life apart?
Presenting to us the imploded pieces
Like a perverted work of art?

You psychotic shapeshifter you sicken me
You serial-stealer of sacred space
You think the human race is a plague
So you became, "The Locust-Eater"
Playing out macabre fantasies
With such swift shifts of physical features
You delight in deriving such clever machinations
To deceive us ...
...but can you deceive yourself?
Underneath the bone and sinew
- you are still just YOU
...even though you masquerade as everybody else

How can I spot a chameleon in a kaleidoscope?
Belay your false colors.
Show me your true shade.

I studied you
Created a secret space- like you
Where I could stash you safe
Poured through claims of being kidnapped
By a being who could change its shape
Corroborated their claims-by the dates
Of misdeeds they were framed for
-And when they took their own life
In my research I found a smoking gun
-In your case your kryptonite
You must regress to your real skin
         once every month
So i set out ...
picked just the right target...
...and started to hunt

To lure out the chameleon...
I captured something...
      
        That I think you might love.

You wore Anessa's life like a glove
Was she to be your masterpiece?
You committed a crime so brazen- as her
it went viral within a week
you stole her child in the darkness of night,
Anessa's husband- that child's father
Must have been filled with such awful fright
He called authorities, you fabricated stories
you turned the victim into a suspect
Over a single fortnight
Not long after he was killed
in a drunken bar fight

As Anessa you were spotted months after
Ignoring a green light of a busy intersection
Parked in the middle of the road
Placed their child on that busy street
Then sped off in the other direction

Anessa was blindsided when you finally
let her go
Oh, i bet you waited with bated breath
For her self-removal from the world?
You ensured she would never again
Get to hold her baby girl
But Anessa never gave in
Did her steadfast resolve
feel like I rash upon your skin?
Where it festered forming feelings foreign
to a fiend such as you?

You scratched that itch
Began by sending her anonymous gifts
Even started shifting into her too
Stalked her waking moments
by engaging her as a stranger:
all the while unaware your sick infatuation:
Had put her in danger

I'm counting down the clock
I kidnapped maybe her or You
I left my address at Anessa's house
A note saying, " this is a game I play now too."
Soon now: a month will have passed
And it all comes crashing to A head:
at last.

So shed your skin
Prepare to fight
This vendetta ends here:

Tonight.

There is a lighter
          
           Just

waiting to ignite.

A knocking at my door
A knot in my stomach
Anessa...( or is it You)
bound beneath my floorboards?
I peer in the peephole then pull You (Or Anessa) out of that hidden hole
I drench us both( for every second You stole)
I  pour it all over
( my life will never be whole)  
I douse everything in here in gasoline
Confess your sins
(before the fire finds them out)
Its time to come CLEAN!!!

And it seems:
I will be dipping my hands in red tonight.
This will all end in the worst way.

I open the door
let Anessa( or You) In
She runs to my captive saying,
"Where do I begin?"

"I made something of my life
after it let me go
At first, it caused the Locust-Eater misery
You see it toys with humans:
ones it knows are weak
I was so meek and feeble before we met...
Yet,I'm the one person it failed to defeat
Its game gave me strength i never knew...
... resolve had always,somehow,eluded me
I do believe its games are vile...but,
They are necessary?
Please,**** me instead
"...but let the Locust-Eater free"

the captive Anessa(or You)
begins thrashing their feet
I yell," which one of you killed my family?!"
They both calmy respond:

" Me."

The lighter flicks in my hand
I'm unable to speak

A month has passed
Which one is the one I seek?
They both insist I let the other go
And you should know:
it slips from my hand
The lighter(like my grip of reality)
falling faster with exposed flame
adhering to the clear rules of gravity

The two Anessa's embrace.
They both begin to burn.

False colors from the chameleon fade out.
Hungry flames swallow me whole.
I am( am I?)...
seeing the Locust-Eater's true shade:

This is how I take control.

-
A story of a shape-shifting serial kidnapper who assumes the identities of his victims, implodes their lives...and lets them go.
Ayesha Jun 2021
O you bleak, bleak little soul
Tell me, what do you want?
The crescent shines a quiet heaven
And winds whisper on
What do you want?
Ask, and have you shall
Ask, ask, ask on
Blue fires smiling green
Or ashen papers soaring up the dark
Two nights ago

We tore an old notebook into
Rootless pages
And crumpled them into *****
One upon the other slept
As the matchstick kissed herself a flame
And shrivelled up like a worm
The papers gleamed from inside out
dragon dens, alive at last
And they smoked all the curses
We dare not utter

They burned themselves away
And fire, the fire followed
The embers remained

They twinkled on the black concrete
Daughters of the sun
Quietened beneath our shoes
Tell me, you bleak, bleak little flower

What is it you ache for?
Dawn brings forth his circus
And hues fill up the world
Why do you weep?
There are drinks that
Make the tongue dance around
Spices as lively as bees

Women prettier than stars
feather touches, and tender seas
voices that dance steady and slow
There are glories on the mountains
Waiting to be loved
Rings and rollercoasters,
Rooftops there are
Ask, ask, ask away

Bards, and beaches
Prayer mats stitched with gold

Thunder upon chirping cities
Moors, and meadows
Museums of all the futures ahead
What do you want?
Ask, ask, ask it all
O you beak, bleak little moon
Why will you not speak?
30/05/2021
Eloisa Apr 2021
As now the darkest night subsides
The blackest and most petrifying night I had
The night that went the quietest
With most deafening voices I heard inside
For days I couldn’t hear my cry
My blistered heart stopped
My sun, my moon, my stars were gone
My happy flowers died
Ghostly shadows, whispers of death
I thought I lost my light
I knelt and prayed
I folded my hands and knelt with faith
A strong and sturdy place sufficed
My folded hands were held by The Great Healer, Jesus Christ
I missed you guys.
It’s been months since the last time I visited this site.
Praying for everyone’s safety.
Andrew Rueter Feb 2021
During the winter weeks
everything looks bleak
so I can hardly speak
looking to out-sleep
this subzero streak
of record lows
and checkered toes
from blizzard blows
the geese all go
but I stall froze
in this tundra tunnel
where the water breaks
must be signs of the shovel
and all it takes
to obfuscate
my massive lake's
frozen fate
and the cozen gate
for that chosen date.

I need to erase these bland hues
for leaves to sprout brand new
to brighten my ****** view
like I'm living in Cancun
chilling at Chichen Itza
chowing on chicken pizza
staring at the colorful sky
under which I never hide
but those are just colors in my mind
looking at the bleakness and the grime
I'm weakened by this time
I need to stay alive
to see the days get wide
and colors collide
releasing me from the darkness fog
so I won't be a heartless sod
after people start to dodge
my evil dark flaws.

Once the clouds split
they'll give me a gift
removing the ****
that makes me slip
on the ice all around me
covering the water in which I'm drowning
when my virulent vision starts browning
erasing positive colors and mentality.

This world will be less neutral
after my diffused old
infused soul
find renewal
in the sun's jewels
creating more vibrant colors
than the winter's covers
of black and white
with lack of light
and saddened sight
to mask what's right.

Once the sun brings back the day
I'll put down my gun and come out to play
but life isn't fun living this way.
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